Now it ain't too late

For y'all to rumble with the heavyweight

Get a date time and place

We can set it straight

I feel the hate like a skinhead Nazi

Coming through Smackola Body Head Kamikazi

I'ma let you know now we on some dangerous ground

With some dangerous sound

And my style is way foul

It could be me or you

My crew or your crew

But its all on you

So what you gon do

We could take it to the stage for a showdown

Take ten paces turn around

And I'ma show you how it go down

Feel the flow now but you're scared of competition

You're mad

But you wishin you was in my position

Stop look listen

Before you even start spittin

Just cause you rappin

Don't mean your shit be hittin

With them hype ass beats that you hide behind

While I write rhymes to keep y'all rewinding mine

Line after line

And my shit keeps bumpin

You're talkin loud but your boys really aint said nothin

And you frontin so hard that your shit sounds reversed

Unrehearsed

Plan of action

Unresearched

And even the worst be the shit you kick in your verse

Talkin bout you gonna bomb

But we bomb first

Hit the dirt

Cause I know you're scared and unprepared

Talkin about battlin but you don't want to go there

That be the motto in the year 2g

And everywhere you go to flow

They gonna mention me

Consider me the enemy of wack mcs

You can take it how you want it

But whats it gonna be

Nigga show me

Take time

Combine your rhymes

You're still hatin

But the main one recitin my lines

Actin like you got love when you see me at shows

But behind closed doors

Man I already know that you a salt shaka

Now you claim you got heat

But nigga talk is cheap

And if you charge it to the game

You better keep a receipt

Niggas want to battle me but I can't be beat

They try to compete but still can't stand defeat

So peep the game

As I heat the flame

Because half of y'all cats still sound the same

You need to make a change cause you look and sound like clones

With that same old same same slang on microphones

And I'm a let it be known about my time and patience

Take one look at your album and call out the violations

And name more than 5

But you keepin it real

Now am I really supposed to think nigga you got skills

Come on now

But you the pimp you the baller

Mister big rap star

There's only one real scholar

Don't even bother crucifying me with ya choppers

I'ma leave MCs with the signs of stigmata

Break em off proper

Now where your clique be at

Now really what made you think you could fuck with Smack

Take an ex lax

Your raps sound constipated

Said your shit was gonna drop but we been constantly waiting

Now you're constantly hating

Cause Im stacking my paper

With the skills and techniques to take it major

And you's a 3rd grader on Sesame Street

Trying to sound out your vowels

So you can catch the beat

I got heat

Feel me give me props or pop collars

If you ain't got one to pop

Then nigga start poppin dollars

Holla after Rottweilers nigga

Runnin up on your ass

Wrote a hot ass check and now your ass can't cash it

Got your brain data crashing

Like you're trippin on acid

Lookin pitiful

Tryin to fade the unfadeable

Killa flow

But you don't hear me though

Salt shaka